


Rough Justice

by 852_Prospect_Archivist



Category: The Sentinel
Genre: M/M, Plot What Plot, S/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-10
Updated: 2013-05-10
Packaged: 2017-12-11 05:41:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,319
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/794517
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/852_Prospect_Archivist/pseuds/852_Prospect_Archivist
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jim's appetites may be more than Blair can handle.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Rough Justice

 

All rights belong to Pet Fly.   
No infringement of the following characters and situations is intended.   
Warning: (MA) Mature Adults only. Contains m/m sexual scenes.

For Sue. This is Draft 1. Draft 2 has become a completely different story, which I will get back to after Ive finished playing with my toy soldiers. 

## Rough Justice

by Hellblazer  


Blair's head popped up from his books when he heard the door click open and slam shut. 

His casual interest peaked suddenly as James Ellison cut across his field of vision, clad head to toe in shiny, new, black motor cycle leathers. He dumped his helmet on the kitchen counter then took the stairs up to his room two at a time. 

Blair couldn't help himself, following Jim up the stairs, eager for explanations. 

"Was that you on that bike?" 

"yeah." 

Blair could see Jim was in one of his monosyllabic moods, but he was daunted. 

"You've got a bike? Where'd you get a bike?" 

"It's mine. I've had it in storage for years. I had a friend fix it up." 

He turned from Blair, dropping the jacket from his shoulders. 

"Shit! Jim!" Blair shrieked. 

Lines of blood seeped through the t-shirt. 

Jim ignored him, peeling the shirt, revealing deep lashes over his back that dipped below the line of his leather pants. 

"Is that how you paid him?" Blair accused bitterly. 

"Yeah." 

"God, why." 

Jim turned, mood dark. "Because I like it. you wouldn't understand." 

"What, you couldn't tell me you're into leather and violence? Thanks, Jim, really. Nice knowing you." Blair turned on his heel. 

"Don't." 

The one word stopped him in mid stride. 

"I couldn't tell you." Jim's voice was strained. 

"Couldn't or wouldn't?" 

"Both," he admitted, downcast. 

God, but Blair was a sucker for that completely lost at sea look. 

"I'm not shocked, Jim. Just upset that you won't confide in me. What sort of a relationship is this?" 

Jim looked like a scolded schoolboy. 

"I didn't want to scare you, or hurt you. I just needed a hard, anonymous fuck. I never be that rough, that cruel with you." 

"Thanks for sparing my feelings." 

Blair gave him a shove. 

"Go and shower. Even I can smell him on you." 

Jim needed a second shove before he moved. 

"Go on, I'll put something on your back when you're done."   
  


* * *

Blair knelt over his Jim, laid before him, naked on the bed, obedient, waiting, but marked by another man. 

The antiseptic seared into his skin. 

"Ow." 

"Thought you liked pain," sniped Blair. 

"Yeah, but you did that on purpose." 

Blair soaked extra antiseptic into Jim's wounds, making Jim wince and catch his breath. 

"Oh, I could get used to that," Jim managed to tease, somewhat breathlessly. 

"Yeah, right. I thought you had a real problem with pain, being Mr Sensitive." 

"I do. Maybe that's it. It's so intense, it's like, everything, all switched on at once, out of control, I just go with it." 

"Endorphins," Blair stopped ministering, thinking. "You're an endorphin junkie. I never really thought about what sort of heightened reaction your own body's chemicals might have on you. You were tripping on the pain, like participants in the sundance, something so intense it's spiritual." 

"Like in 'A Man Called Horse'?" 

"Yeah," smiled Blair, impressed. 

He smoothed the cotton swab over Jim's well shaped buttocks, dipping down, brushing just lightly against his balls, making him shift slightly. His hand returned to tease, then squeeze. He stroked and soothed, then pinched, really hard. 

Jim started, then twisted around to gage the mood of his assailant, pleasure or revenge. A little of both. 

"I like it rough sometimes, too, you know," Blair practically purred. 

"Do you?" Jim sounded very unconvinced. 

"Yes." The voice softened, hands sliding up and down the backs of his thighs. 

Blair found himself suddenly tossed and thrown down on the bed, arms pinned above his head in a hard and heavy grip. The hard, muscular body above him unyielding, unmoving. 

Jim saw the flash of fear in his eyes, felt and heard the hammer of his heart. He eased his grip slightly. 

Bless you for trying, Blair, he thought fondly, but the kid just didn't have the mean streak the army bred in it's men. 

Jim leant down and kissed him hard, grinding his lips and teeth into Blair's, but releasing his arms, so he could hold him tight, real tight. He pulled away the clothes roughly and without care, flinging them over the side of the bed, pulling Blair to him again to gnaw and bite upon his soft throat, grazing his teeth hard across his jaw, nipping at his earlobes, leaving a trail of teeth marks and raw suction bruises over his skin. He pulled at the springy hair, twisting Blair's head around, biting across his shoulder, turning him over, pressing him up against the rail, kissing him hard all over the back of his neck, and down his spine. He pulled Blair up by the hips, squeezing and slapping his buttocks, making him spread his legs. 

"Jim," Blair gasped. "Protection." 

"I was careful," Jim answered huskily, leaning forward to maul the back of his neck again, almost burying his face in those wonderful curls. 

Blair wanted it rough. He rubbed his erection between his cheeks, making Blair thrust back against him, while he reached under and pinched and pulled at hard nipples, tugging at the matching silver ring he found there. 

"Do it," Blair hissed between gritted teeth, maddened by the friction of Jim's cock rubbing over his arse. 

Jim plunged in, his hands biting into Blair's shoulders, holding him fast. He pulled out and sank deep into Blair again, buried up to the hilt, his face pressed against the back of his neck, staying like that, joined, still, for a moment, before pushing in and out, harder and faster. 

Blair twisted and squirmed on the end of his cock, thrilled and frightened by the ferocity of Jim's thrusts, in awe of the beautiful power of the hard muscled arms that held him so firmly. 

He pushed back against Jim, flexing down. Jim dragged him back roughly, holding him so that he was pressed back against him, almost sitting in his lap, fucking himself. Blair arched and moved up and down against Jim as his lover's hands pulled at his chest hair, pinched and squeezed his nipples, tugged and pumped his hard on. 

Jim pulled as Blair pushed, his strong fist working up and down until thick semen sprayed over Blair's chest and thighs, dribbling over their joined fingers. 

Blair arched back, tilting his head, exposing his throat to Jim, who claimed it. Jim pressed up once, twice, and came, letting Blair finally sag back down upon the pillows. He lay beside him, kissing his shoulder softly. 

"You werent that rough with me," Blair accused softly. 

Jim smiled. 

"I love you too much to hurt you." 

Blair rolled over, facing Jim. 

"You could never hurt me, Jim," he declared. 

"Yes, I can," Jim assured sadly, biting down the memories of sitting, waiting beside Blair in that damn hospital bed. He smoothed back a stray, damp curl from Blair's forehead. "I love you so much," he affirmed, kissing Blair softly on the lips, then the forehead, then snuggling down against his love for some much needed sleep. The buzz was wearing off, sliding into exhaustion. The welts on his back really stung now. Almost as much as the love bites all over Blair's throat, he bet. He'd have a devil of a time explaining those marks to Simon tomorrow. His last thought was of trying to convince Blair to wear that elaborate native American necklace of his, as he drifted off to sleep.   
  


* * *

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